Vehicular Timeslaughter

My car's engine light came on with no seemingly related performance problems, so I took it to the shop to be sure. But the dealership started making appointments to work on cars. They could onyl see me at 2, so I took my car back home, got Your Sis's car and drove that to work. A few hours later, I went back home, switched cars, and took mine to the shop. After about 90 minutes, they told me that the oil-change shop apparently put in the air filter wrong, and it triggered a wire. If the light comes on again within a week, they'll replace the sensor. Meaning nothing else is wrong with the car. Good to know. While I waited, I read Romeo & Juliet and found the parts I could realistically play.

I assume every college-age boy and gal are gonna want the leads, and they can have them. The couple are the least interesting parts. The two packs of Montague and Capulet boys are meatier, as are the friar and the prince. But the friar and Lord Capulet will no doubt go to the repertory older guys, leaving me with the running buddies are blood enemies of Romeo. Those are fine roles, and I wouldn't complain about them. Your Sis knows the play front and back, and she's auditioning too. She's never auditioned before, and she's nervous. I'll talk her through it before we go in tonight. But no matter what we do, auditions are rattling. I think we're conditioned to be disturbed by them.

After the car work, I went back home and raked for about an hour and essentially took the rest of the night off.

Picture of the Day
Here's a weird thing. If you go to the extended 300 trailer on YouTube and stop it at 1:52, you see this:



Now this obviously has nothing to do with Spartans, but it does suggest the next film by the 300 director: Watchmen. That comic is the Moby Dick, the Les Miserables, the Hamlet of comic books, and it has long toiled in development even as comic fans debate whether any adaptation could do it justice. The guy here is Rorschach, the quasi-narrator of the comic. In the comic, he looks like this:


Until we hear something specific about a greenlit movie, there's no reason to go crazy over a Watchmen film, so I'll shelve my comments for now. But that clip is nestled in the trailer as a treasure for the comic fans, and it's a acknowledgment that a good number of comic fans would kill to see the film made. This could be the spark that lights a geek bomb.

In the News
I'm not saying it's likely, but those rumors about Cheney walking away just won't die. An upcoming Time cover story will try to expose Cheney as the real power in the White House, which may shock as many as eight people. This leads to armchair quarterbacking as to who will replace him. Condi would be an obvious pick, but that would necessitate the administration's third secretary of state, and that position needs consistency. A smart ploy would be to tap a presidential candidate like McCain, but Bush and McCain have an unpleasant history, and this could skewer McCain's platform as an independent thinker if he's seen walking two paces behind the president. But a Cheney-less white House means someone else has to run the shop. Rove lost his power when the Plame story broke, and I can't see two grown adults taking orders via the Cheney-phone from the Cheney-cave. Wouldn't it be hysterical if Bush took control for once and turned out to know what he was doing? Maybe that's why he can't properly communicate his ideas or hide his awkward chuckle: he's constantly wondering if he's correctly following a script he doesn't like.

Captain America Madness

I finished all the inks last night in a mad rush between dinner and "Lost"(which again was great). I've started simple coloring swaths and lettering placement, and I'm on track to finish soon.

In the News
The media went nuts for the Captain America story, with the AP, Wall Street Journal, NPR, and others covering it. My store in Spartanburg said the local CBS affiliate sent a news crew out before they opened the doors. Many stores are out of the issue as speculator/investors are gobbling them up to stash or sell on eBay, where some copies are going for $45 (newsstand price= $3). I suppose the media attention helps the giant crossover's perception as a success, but this one event eclipses now this seemingly unrelated, months-long story about power registration. The suggestion that this is a political commentary is what fuels the reporting, but there is no such parallel. Cap was killed by a thug under the employ of his archenemy. Marvel Comics is being somewhat mild in their statements, saying Cap is dead, and dead is dead, and this isn't a publicity ploy. But they do like to mention the Cap movie under development. I haven't read his comic for years and can't count myself among those affected by this. But we're supposed to get another X-men death by year's end, and that one may hurt a bit.

Picture of the Day
Here's the Big Moment:

Yeah, I Think I'm Nuts

Just a month after finishing the play, I'm auditioning for another one: a summer stock Shakespeare. Montford Park Players advertised auditions this weekend for Romeo & Juliet and Cyrano DeBergerac. Your Sis loves and teaches both, and I think she talked me into trying out for the former. This comes less than a week after she saw the show in Greenville. I have yet to do a Shakespeare, and I'm eager to try, but this is outdoor summer work. The air will be iffy, the audiences will be distant, and I haven't read the play in years. Also, when am I gonna get that painting started? I'm gonna skim between now the Friday night to pick up William's flow. I don't even know how many parts I'm eligible for. She wants to try for Cyrano, by the way, if her work schedule permits.

I got home early from work and hunkered down to ink, and it's virtually all done. I toiled from 4:15 to about midnight, on and off, to get past this stage, and I have one more panel to tackle.

Picture of the Day
One of the pages in question. It's flat art, and I'll color it later to add volume and light. You can see how I'll use fine art in some panels to refer to legends. The first two panels need inking and a title block. I feel good about the progress I made and feel sure I can knock this comic out before the deadline.



In the News
They found Scooter guilty of most counts in the CIA leak trial. The consensus is that he was the patsy for the administration, and left unanswered is the question as to who ordered the leak. It wasn't Libby, and fingers point to Cheney or Rove, but further charges are unlikely to descend. Speaking of Cheney, he's been diagnosed with deep vein thrombosis after his lengthy flight about the globe. He's receiving blood-thinners but a clot could kill him, and Utterly Hysterical Rumors abound that he might step down for health reasons.

+ + +

Remember the giant crossover event Marvel Comics was doing, this big hero fight over registration legislation? The miniseries ended two weeks ago, but the Big Event was published just today: Captain America was killed by a sniper. Now when I say "killed," you have to understand that death in comics is a joke. Anyone can come back at any time. Jean Grey came back twice, and Cap's WWII sidekick -- the standard of "dead is dead" arguments -- returned recently after 40something years. The national media picked up the story, and now it's everywhere to the anger of comic fans who waited taken great pains to not have the Big Event spoiled for them. Me? Eh. I haven't read that book in years, and I don't think they're gonna kill off that character. He'll be back in the middle of another giant crossover.

Un Petit Dîner

To support the annual school trip to France, we bought dinner at one of Mayberry's swankiest restaurants. We had coq au vin and pate, which tastes a bit like flaky sausage. We sat with school folks and enjoyed good conversation. I tipped with leftover poker money. The wine was strong stuff, and though I wanted to get myself pickled, I had to work on the comic afterward. I had some decaf coffee to keep me going (caffeinated java would have made me sleep) and plugged away at the art until midnight. I think -- think -- all the penciling is done. Tonight I'll start inking. It was surprisingly not that difficult to draw a pig head in the viking style. These are things you don't expect to draw when you start a comic about apples.

Picture of the Day
The teacher who hosts the trip is a fluent French speaker. Her husband officiated our wedding, and we like the couple a lot. He asked last night if we wanted to go with the group. I can't do it this summer, but I'd love to go another year. It's been almost 17 years since I was there.


In the News
Ann Coulter makes her living saying stupid things and then claims she's pointedly using satire. What she's really doing is desperately trying to get attention with insult shtick. During a conservative convention this weekend, she called democrat candidate John Edwards a faggot. Out loud. On stage. This has not gone over so well, and it's led to hand-wringing over political discourse. But Ann wasn't engaging in discourse. She was doing a routine, and she was sharing the stage with GOP candidates, including Mitt Romney. Those candidates tripped over themselves to create distance from her remarks. This is what Ann does. When she's not calling for a scorched-earth crusade against Muslims or race-baiting, she gets no press. She's similar to radio host Michael Savage whose rantings are so childish and juvenile that I think he's actually doing performance art.

But what's lost in this debate of sensitivity and humor is that no one uses "faggot" once they leave high school. We outgrow it, like "cooties" and "doddiehead." Or at least most of us do. I know it's still chucked around here in the South by people who can't think of a stronger insult. Which means it's used by the dim and surly. I expect Ann to say something stupid and offensive, but this just sounds pathetic. Really? That's the best you can come up with? He's a lawyer with a hair helmet. How does that target escape your notice? She's lost some national advertisers from her website because of this. Gay columnist Dan Savage spoke on the word a few weeks back, declaring it devoid of any power and suggested it be used by gay people to insult and terrify homophobes with campy, shrill taunting.

Jackpot

We met up with Travis and Kathy on Friday for dinner, and he asked me to join him and some other guys for a man-date to see 300. We're going to see my parents next weekend for mom's birthday, but I'll be able to squeeze in. While the guys see the film, the wives will have a ladies night. Then, of course, Your Sis and I will go watch 300.

I woke up early Saturday, sketched the comic a bit, and went to work on the yard. I always prefer to rake the leaves at winter's end so all of them can be gathered at one time. We have plenty of space behind the tree line to stash them. I also cleared out the creek obstructions. It was one of those things that develop organically. I dump some leaves, see the high waterline, yank out some creek junk, notice the other patches of junk backing up the water, tackle those, and go back to raking. The iPod is nice for this kind of work. I can even listen to NPR; the local Saturday lineup is stellar: Car Talk, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, This American Life, Fresh Air recap, The Ticket, Money Matters, On the Media, All Things Considered, and Prairie Home Companion. Your Sis came out about an hour later to plant bulbs we got from my parents. We grabbed lunch at the pub later, and then Your Sis, brace yourself, napped. I worked on the comic. I'm almost through with penciling, and I finished up the hardest panel with the strong perspective.

But at 4, we split up. I had the poker party, and she was off to Greenville. This was my first tournament game, and we only played Texas Hold 'Em. This is the game you see most often on TV because it's extended and relies on individual betting on communally held cards. I knew no one else there aside from Big Mama, but it was a friendly gang. Some saw the play but didn't recognize me even after looking at the cast photos. I've got more hair, a beard, an earring, and no accent. Her husband Mike ran us through the house rules. I knew the game fine, but the betting rules were new. We had randomly assigned seats at two tables (it was me, Mike, and five women at one), and the betting increments increased every 15 minutes. We all paid $10 to play $2,500 worth of chips. You began with a stack of $5 chips as the smallest increment, but within an hour the minimum bet was $40. And when you got to the last two cards, all antes doubled. This was done to move the game along as we had 13 people playing.

I have two rules of playing poker:
1) if you have a face card, bet at least for one round to see the next three dealt cards; and
2) play further if you have an 8 or a queen. These are my lucky cards. And sure enough, the first hand I won was a split pot with a Q8 full house.

I wore my new skull-and-crossbones socks for luck (with no idea if they were lucky). I did fairly well to start, but some of the gals were brand new to the game. We bent the rules a bit initially to make it fun and more than fair. They picked it up quick, and Mike helped me with some bet strategies. He was the first one out from our table, by the way. Then we lost two more players, and the players spread out again among the two tables. And we kept playing. And playing.

Long story short, we played for six straight hours. We started right before 7 p.m. and ended about 12:45 a.m. I stayed at my table and snacked throughout. I drank two of my beloved Smirnoff Ices early and then switched to soda to stay sober during the big bets. When the game ended, the minimum bet was $1,00 dollars. And I was one of the last three, which meant I would get a piece of the tournament pot. There was $130 to be given to the last three players. Last place got $26. First place got $64. I played pretty conservative but did pursue some hands foolishly, hoping for luck on the last card. Sometimes I got it. Sometimes I thought I got it until I learned what the other players were holding.

My best hand was a full house, the fourth best you can get. I also won a hand with the high card, the lowest victory you can claim. But I got to the last three, and then we played against each other for about half an hour, just picking away at each other's stacks. I did bet everything on one hand(which we could only do later in the tournament), but the other player folded. And then we lost a player, and it was just two of us, me and Big Mama. And after six fucking hours, we decided to split the pot. We played a game only for bragging rights (I lost to a high card), but walked away from the table with $52 and a nice showing for my first time with them. I drove home blasting my radio to stay awake and got home at 1:40. I did get to hear the late-night conspiracy radio show, and that's always fun. Did you know gray aliens talk to humans telepathically? Did you know the FAA is hiding evidence of UFOs? Did you know that when I was 10, I would have sworn these were so?

I was dead on Sunday. I barely slept because I chugged soda to stay awake for the game, and couldn't rest at home with that lingering buzz. I drew a bit, bought lunch with the poker winnings, got groceries with Your Sis and that included the weekly crackuccino to help me remain standing (also bought with poker winnings). She worked on school stuff, and we split the laundry while I did research for the comic. I thought I only had a few panels left. But I can't find a decent painting of Norse apple imagery. It looks like I'll need to draw that particular panel, and I'm inclined to work in the intricate Norse patterns. Maybe I can escape that. I also may need to draw the Arthurian panel after all. I'll definitely finish the pencil work this weekend and then start inking. I may scan the pencil work, get the lettering out of the way on the PC, and then scan the inked pages and place them under the word balloons. I want this to look sharp, I want to improve on what I've done before. and I have exactly four weeks to do it. That should be plenty of time. I would have worked more on the comic yesterday, but I didn't trust my addled brain.

Picture of the Day
This has been called a new Spidey 3 poster, but it's missing all the text. It's still cool. Can the filmmakers make a third film that stands well along the first two. Can it possibly be better than the second film?

The black costume -- and the villain that adopts it later -- is almost a franchise unto itself, and the comic fans are soiling themselves with glee. I'm from the generation before the black costume, so I maintained an arm's length from it. There was no reason to move away from the classic outfit, reasoned my young mind, and that conclusion stands. Peter didn't even initially change costumes for psychological reasons; his old one was shredded and an alien costume machine gave him a new, different one. And then he found out it was sentient and nasty, and it moved to someone who had a reason to hate Peter and a new villain was born. The trailers suggest that's what's going to happen onscreen. And I must need more sleep because I am making with the blah-blah something fierce.

A Talk With Zales

I filled out a customer survey online today with emphasis on poor service. I requested to be contacted for details, and I just got off the phone with a regional manager. She wanted to know what happened, and I spelled it out while saying repeatedly that I wasn't searching for any compensation and that I recognized a distinction between the employees and the franchise. I just wanted an adult to know that the kids were misbehaving when they were alone.

And she said the right things. From my survey information, she knew which store I was talking about. She said that store was not performing well of late (the whole mall is on its last legs) and had been given a new manager recently. She said corporate policies may have kept the manager from firing bad employees, including yon monkeyfuckers, for a certain amount of time. I don't know if that's the case here. I don't care. I told her that I wouldn't go back to that store, no matter what, and she said she understood. She said she she appreciated the feedback and steps would be taken so another customer doesn't get the same behavior.

So that's that.

That pledge to eat light ended exactly as soon as the pizza arrived at our door. It was miserable weather and Your Sis was napping as I got home. I scurried to the workshop and worked on the comic for a while. I set up my first perspective grid for the first panel: a classroom filled with kids at desks. As we devoured the pizza, we watched this week's "Lost." Maybe my favorite episode so far. It was a throwback to the first season with no appearance of the Others and an d a surprising amount of information exchange. None of this "you wouldn't understand" or "it's complicated." Then we watched a "South Park" and called it a day with a double cocktail of NyQuil.

I still can't make the blog labels work.

Picture of the Day
My photos arrived. Here's me right as Big Daddy skewers my plans for plantation domination.

Food Drunk

Your Sis returned earlier than expected last night minus a cellphone but eager to eat. She thinks she left the phone in the car in which she rode back, but that person won't be back to work until tomorrow. This bothers her because she lost track of something, not that she's addicted to her phone. She knows it's in town because she contacted me with it on the drive back. We ate at Juan's and split some alambres, and it was only after we finished that I told her I had already eaten dinner from Burger King. I assured her I wanted to have dinner with her once I knew she was available for it, but I do think I developed meat intoxication. When I was a younger man, I could wolf down two Whoppers in one sitting. I also developed a belly. No longer, says I. I'll eat like a bird today to make up for it.

When we got home, to help distract her from the phone and the trip, I gave her the ring. That seemed to work. She appears to like it. And it did fit after all.

Picture of the Day
Da ring.


In the News
Here's an interesting article on the administration's use of anonymity in its statements. The administration urges the press to refrain from identifying speakers so no quotes can be held against them later.

Silent Snakes on a Hill

Bachelor Night consisted of three events of varying quality.

I call the store yesterday to see if my ring came in. It did. Thanks so much for calling me, Zales. I get there and find the same two young guys working the cabinets as I saw two weeks ago. I give my name, and the one who didn't process my order initially retrieves my ring. He takes it out of the numbered ziplock bag and hands me a receipt to sign. The receipt states that the undersigned has inspected the ring for all requested repairs. I read this and wait to be given the ring. To inspect, you see. The clerk is baffled as to why I'm not signing. So I say, in small words, I need to see the ring first. He holds it for me but removes the tissue wrapping. Looks OK, I suppose. I just want the stone; I can pay for another fitting or sizing somewhere else. I give him the signed receipt. He walks to another counter to get a Zales box. And as he does he mumbles something to the other clerk. It's probably about my unreasonable behavior. I get the boxed ring without a "thank you" or "hope she likes it" or even a "good evening." Nothing. I'm now convinced these two are running the joint by themselves in the scary-ass zombie-movie mall.

So tomorrow I'm contacting Zales and telling them they have a store run by monkeyfucker frat boys without a lick of courtesy or professional demeanor. What do I expect to happen? Nothing. But I shall never give them one damn dime again. Zales, you equals dead to me.

When Your Sis comes back, I'll present her with the ring, and hopefully all this frustration will vanish.

I then rented two movies, Snakes On a Plane and Silent Hill. While at the Buster of Blocks I noticed, just three shelves over from the massive stack of Snakes on a Plane DVDs, a knockoff film called Snakes on a Train. I had no idea such a thing existed, but I picked up the Plane film confident it would be ten times better than some quicky film slapped together to exploit rental customers with bad hearing or bad memories.

But after seeing Plane, I don't know how much worse the Train film could be. Plane is just awful. It's no fun, it's too formulaic, and it lacks the willingness to wink at the audience. It's also pretty damn stupid. When there are five subplot points that make your Logic Sense tingle within the first ten minutes, you realize have booked yourself a flight on Horseshit Airlines. The biggest surprise was Julianne Marguiles, who most know as the curly-haired nurse from ER, the one involved with Clooney's character. I felt bad for her to be stuck in this film. Jackson looks not at all embarrassed to be here, but he has very little opportunity to let go. The cult of the film developed around him solely, and without him, the film is easily dismissed. I can't recommended even for camp. It's just that flat.

Silent Hill, based on a creepy videogame, is a nice surprise for those who like outright monster horror. It's smart and sleek, with no wasted time for needless character moments. I admire its work ethic. The villains is a little plastic, the scenario a little muddled, but it has great atmosphere and otherworldy menace, my favorite horror element. One actress calls it a mix of "Alice in Wonderland" and Dante's "Inferno," which is almost precise, but one recalls too easily Aliens as the mom descends to a mechanical maze to find her abducted daughter. I enjoyed this one scroll by, but sadly didn't find myself scared by it at all.

Picture of the Day
Really. They made it.

Bachelor Eve

Your Sis spent all of her awake time after work preparing for her work trip. One of the things we came up with for her classroom was a assigned paper where students write about historic events mentioned in their favorite songs. It's a gimme grade. Using block quotes on the lyrics stretches out the paper length and they can write about something they like. Instead, they've leaped beyond our convenience and decided to mail it in by writing about the Star-Spangled Banner and folk songs from the 1800s. We were thinking REM or Rage Against the Machine or Alan Jackson or Outkast or "American Pie." We even cited such examples. But they've taken the least fun route, and now we'll all have to slog through shanties and hymns. They're morons.

She left this morning and returns late Wednesday. She's also away this weekend. So I could spend my private time on the comic, but with my far-off deadline, It think I'll do very little productive work and slob it out. I even have a poker game scheduled on Saturday with Big Mama from the play.

Remember how the Valentine's ring was supposed to be in yesterday? Apparently the store didn't. Monkeyfuckers.

Picture of the Day


In the News
Cheney's trip abroad is not going well. Air Force 2 left Australia with some mechanical concern, and he survived what's being called a suicide-bomber attempt on his life. His trip's schedule include a surprise visit to Pakistan, and rumor has it that he's staying out of the country because the Libby trial jury is probably going to find against his former chief of staff. The jury lost a member yesterday after some alleged media exposure to the case, and it may have have been a former writer for the Washington Post.

Oscar Weekend

A very stupid thing happened at the school Friday. The school just started the obligatory daily pledge this year. A known outspoken teacher was asked to lead the school in the Pledge of Allegiance via the intercom. She did, and left out "under God." Kids were so upset they called their parents via cellphone to stone the heathen. The principal added a formal letter of reprimand to her permanent file. Your Sis is so pissed she cleaned her home office. The teacher is understandably upset, and other teachers are debating legal recourse. I'm not surprised she chose to say the original version of the pledge, nor am I surprised that the principal brought down the disciplinary hammer.

Who's to blame? Everyone. She called down the thunder, he overreacted, and the kids are a buncha knee-jerk tattle-tales. I'm hoping the principal and the teacher have a calm meeting next week when tempers die down, because ultimately, the lesson learned is that the omission of "God" in the formal pledge to the flag is actionable. And that's quite the high-horse hick indignation we can live without. I also have a problem with pledging allegiance to a flag instead of, say, laws and principals. But the thing was written to sell flags and later adopted by Congress.

The comic took on big momentum Saturday as I paneled out the artboards and started penciling panels. Instead of working on page one, panel one, I skipped around based on my sketches. The linework came out pretty clean, much to my surprise, and I suspect I can forgo inking if I go over the work with darker pencils. By Sunday evening, I had most of the thing drawn. I put in the extended Lord of the Rings DVD to listen to commentary as I worked and I got through all of that and half of the Sin City commentary. So I know I put in at least 6 hours. I still need to do two panels, but I find myself past most of the hard work. I just got word that the art deadline is March 26. A full month away. I can handle that with no problem. I was scared it would be this weekend or something. Jesus, a month. I feel like I won a lottery.

We watched the Oscars last night, and I was most happy with seeing Scorsese win for Best Director. I remember watching while at Brevard College and seeing Kevin Costner take the award for Dances With Wolves instead of Goodfellas. That was a Big Wrong. I thought the show focused a bit much on An Inconvenient Truth and Al Gore, and I didn't care for the dancers making silhouettes for the Best Picture nominees. But the Jack Black/Will Ferrell/John C. O'Reilly song was good as was the performances for the Dreamgirls nominated songs. Celine Dion just makes my ears curl up and scurry back into my skull, and I don't why they made a big deal about her singing lyrics over a Ennio Morricone song. He's a composer. And she's cooing over his work. The best bit was the sound effects choir.

Picture of the Day
I gave Your Sis her new mix CD Friday before she started slaving away at school work. She listened as she cleaned Friday night and seems to dig it. It makes for good driving music, and she's going back to Greenville this weekend.



You Give Love a Bad Name -- Bon Jovi
Le Disko -- Shiny Toy Guns
Welcome to the Black Parade -- My Chemical Romance
This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race -- Fall Out Boy
Knock 'Em Out -- Lily Allen
Listen Up -- The Gossip
This Fire -- Franz Ferdinand
World -- Five for Fighting
Mad World -- Sacre
Alison -- Elvis Costello
Little Northern Bird -- Dream Academy/Annie Lennox
Put Your Records On -- Corinne Bailey Rae
Thundersexy -- ACDC/Justin Timberlake
Tears of a Rock -- ACDC/Smokey Robinson
Bombs Over Baghdad -- Outkast
Warning, Rush Where It's At -- Big Audio Dynamite/Beck/Green Day
Sober -- Half Cocked
Jack And Diane's Last Episode -- Snoop Dogg/Dr. Dre/John Cougar

In the News (sorta)
The NY Times reports that Christopher Plummer, Captain Von Trapp himself will play one of the leads in a new stage production of Inherit the Wind. Wow.

+ + +

DirecTV will provide Ovation (an arts channel) and Chiller (a horror channel) this year. Chiller could start as early as March 1. I hope this leads to a renaissance of '70s and '80s films which have yet to get a decent DVD release. Your Sis is going on a work trip tomorrow, leaving me a bachelor for the night. I intend to rent myself some horror films that I know she would never watch.

The Vonnegut Moment

In the classic Annie Hall, Woody Allen argues with a fellow movie patron about Marshall McLuhan. To hammer home his point, Woody brings the McLuhan from off-camera, and he destroys the other guy. It's one of those surreal comedy moments Allen excels at.

There's also a nice, little Rodney Dangerfield movie called Back to School. HBO used to show it roughly 30 times a day. A rich businessman goes to college to show his show how far he's willing to support him. The teacher assigns a paper on Kurt Vonnegut. The dad hires Kurt Vonnegut to write the paper. The writer shows up at the dorm room to get started. The teacher later accuses the student of cheating and says whoever wrote the paper didn't know anything about Vonnegut. And then Dangerfield chews out Vonnegut over the phone.

The scenes are similar enough that I lump them together in what I call the Vonnegut Moment. And I had one yesterday. This goes back to the continuing row over comic readers sharing their interest with women.

In the first indignant hysteria bomb that started this mess, the blogger cited my mention of Frank Miller and was aghast that I would suggest any woman read his material. She went on to say this: That sound you hear is Lea Hernandez's head exploding at the notion of Frank Miller as the perfect female-friendly cartoonist. When I responded, I cited this attitude attributed to Hernandez. And then she, or someone claiming to be Hernandez, appeared and called me out on it. I was Vonneguted. I told her that I was merely repeating what was said originally, and we've since drifted into a conversation about the growing trend in comics toward pure cheesecake art.

She has a point, and I agree with her. No one who's read comics for more than ten years can argue. What used to be all-age comic material (Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, Wonder Woman, etc.) has devolved into softcore as artists abandon storytelling for titillation. But my argument was to say a Frank Miller book like Sin City can't be lumped in with the current hero cheesecake. They aim for different audiences and tell different stories. At least they used to aim for different audiences. When Your Sis or you open up a Sin City comic, you would expect to see material that you might not expect from a Spidey comic (However, a recent comic displayed full frontal Spidey, and Marvel insists no one noticed until the book was printed and shipped). But the sad reality of comics is that kid readership has plummeted, and publishers are trying to win over the predominantly 20-something readers with lowest-common-denominator tactics. Ergo, tits a'plenty.

It's gotten so bad and artists have gotten so lazy that Marvel had to issue a memo demanding their people stop copying images directly from sources such as porn films, gossip magazines, and movie stills. It's really distracting to open a comic and see the artist has cast celebrities as certain characters. Samuel L Jackson, Eminem, Gene Hackman, Brad Pitt, Sawyer for "Lost," Lucy Liu. I've seen 'em with my own surprised eyes.

Hernandez railed against tit-and-ass in traditional superhero books, and she's right. You can't argue anymore that men are just as abstracted to physical perfection in comics, because artists aren't presenting male characters in such a blatantly exploitive way. We agree on that point, but I can't agree that women should be given only a certain type of comic or discouraged from reading other comics, because of their assumed delicate constitutions. And that's what I was saying when Hernandez (or someone claiming to be her) popped in to set the record straight.

What started as cliche internet rambling has become a chance to talk with a comic creator (or someone claiming to be her) about a pernicious development in the medium we work in.

And speaking of which ...

Picture of the Day
These are the thumbnails for the food comic. It's three pages. I always work thumbnails this way -- in ink and very small. You can see where I redid a panel or two and moved one strip to the top of the next page. Thumbnails allow the page architecture to develop before you commit to drawing. You can compile panel angles and cropping of bodies with an eye for word balloons and redundancies. I hammered out a quick script to be followed by a quick art session. I still don't know the deadline so I have to assume it's soonish. To save time, I'm going to run fine-art images in panels; that's why some panels only have words in them. You can click the image here for a larger version. You can do that with all my pictures. You knew that, right?

Potential Fallout

Yesterday, I talked about accusations concerning Your Sis and I from another blogger. This person ranted about Fanboy Reading because the subjects of her diatribe didn't pay enough homage to manga and webcomics. I've since learned that she has a manga-influenced webcomic. So there you have it; she's mad because we don't like what she likes or, more to the point, didn't pay her lip service. I got no response from her after posting my subsequent comments. Probably because I didn't allow them to devolve into hysterical generalization. I don't expect consistent rational discourse online, not when we're swimming in the same ocean with a buncha freaks. But this bolt from the blue was wholly unwelcome and uncalled for. I told Your Sis about it, and she wondered why married couples sharing interests would be called trickery by anyone who is supposedly married, as this woman is.

The stage manager for the play asked me for the link to the theatre blog. I sent it along to her with the caveat that it's purely subjective and intended for a private audience. Not that I said anything untrue. But this kind of disclosure has more impact when its printed. We'll see what happens there.

Picture of the Day
Jordeans' Fall of Man. This is playing a part in my anthology comic.

Charlotte's Web of Needless Drama

I read Charlotte's Web for the first time at the request for Your Sis. She bought the book at Best Buy the weekend before Valentine's Day. She loves it and apparently has since she was young. I was always told it was a girls' book, and our purchase experience cemented that. As Your Sis read the first chapter to me in line, the lady in front of us turned and said she had memorized that chapter as a girl. And then the cashier told us how she worshiped the book as a girl. So, yeah, it's not a boys' book. I was reading Encyclopedia Brown and Judy Blume. OK, and as many comics as my tiny hands could carry. Point being, this was always in the library stack of Books Girls Should Read, and I was not to touch those lest I got the cooties.

But I did read it starting this weekend. As a kids' book, it stays within its own universe very well except for the part where Charlotte, after securing Wilbur the Pig's new destiny and laying her eggs, dies and dies alone. The author makes sure we understand that this saintly spider is completely unnoticed, unattended, and unmourned as she dies at the abandoned fairgrounds. This is sure to crack the heart of a child, many of whom fear solitude. This smacks of cruelty. But at least it doesn't commit the cardinal sin of so many -- and I feel secure in saying "hundreds" -- of children's stories from the '80s where children watch a beloved thing die, weep for the loss, and discover the thing resurrected thanks to magic and love. That's cruelty as well. It sets them up for a crash of reality later on. We boys didn't have that. When Optimus Prime dies in the '80s Transformers movie, he didn't come back in that movie. When he was revived years later for the cartoon series, it felt cheap. Manipulative, even. And we youngsters booed en masse.

I believe such a reliance on death in these stories is a genesis of the goth lifestyle. I remember many adventures involving my toys that ended in death and a funeral. Minutes later, the toy would be unearthed and cleaned and put back with the rest of them. But there would be a good five-minute blanketing of sorrow I would relive week after week. I can't tell you why I did it. But it happened, and no one ever knew about it until you read this. This is what the book sparked in my memory. I liked feeling dark. It was a calming, temporary mindstate. And maybe many of us don't want to give that up as we mature. Maybe it's their one pure feeling that isn't diluted by incidents later in life. It's a comforting constant.

I did like the book, mainly because of the dialogue. My favorite quote is from the rat: "Is your appetizing yarn true? I like living high, and what you say tempts me." I think I'll spring this on telemarketers.

We watched a re-jiggered original "Star Trek" episode last night. Paramount has replaced the original special effects with new CGI material. The old, blueish white Enterprise is now a sterling gray ship and the space shots allow richer planet images. It doesn't at all affect the charm of the original series, and we caught a great installment: Spock goes into heat. This is classic geek stuff, as we see the planet Vulcan for the first time and witness a campy fight to the death between Kirk and Spock. The fight music is legend in nerd circles. Hum it at a convention and a chorus will break out. I TiFauxed it when it ran Sunday to watch next week when Your Sis is out of town. To my surprise, when we were couched in front of the TV last night, she said she wanted to watch it. So we did.

Speaking of geeks, you might want to know about this. I posted on a message board about how Your Sis likes Frank Miller comics. You know, Sin City, 300, etc. The message thread was about comic readers who had introduced their girls to comics. This lit a fire under some folks online who think we're trying to "trick" our women into -- here, you can read the start of something needless right here. Amid the protests about us sad geeks trying to foist comics onto our women, my example of Miller material is considered inappropriate for women because he's not a "perfect female-friendly cartoonist." Keep in mind, this is a woman writing this. She's saying Your Sis and you should be offended because the comic includes violence, bad language, and various nipples.

Seriously, you -- YOU, the Peace Corps grad student -- need to be protected from this because you're a girl. You can't enjoy it because you're a girl. And this is a woman saying this. I responded that Your Sis could choose and read what she liked. It's a backward-ass feminism that limits what a woman can choose to like and a rank paranoia that says geek boys will bury their defenseless, mindless gals in things the latter won't like. Jesus, of all wives, Your Sis is hardly a welcome mat. People we don't know are saying she should stick to Charlotte's Web and can't possibly choose to watch "Star Trek." We get enough shit from people who think all pop culture is worthless and juvenile. We don't need this shit from our fellow connoisseurs.

Picture of the Day
It's enough to make the Butter Jesus cry.

Presidents' Weekend

We saw the high school boys win their conference championship in front of a packed madhouse gym. The student section lit into the opposing team AND their cheerleading squad with its own back-flipping representative matching the opposing tumbler move for move.

On Saturday I fed Your Sister lunch between her hourlong siestas. She stayed up long enough to watch the extended Fellowship of the Ring, which I think clocks in at three days. While she was out, I worked on the food comic. The next day, I drove down to Spartanburg to visit Esther. She was th photo wrangler at our wedding. She has a baby now, and this was my first chance to meet him. He's a happy lad. It was her dad's birthday weekend, and I gave him DVDs of GlenGary Glen Ross and The Right Stuff. I noticed during the drive that my oil light was flickering on hard turns, but I made the trip back home with no trouble. That's where I was when you talked to Your Sis on Sunday. I'm sure you killed in the interview.

On Monday, I took the car in for an oil change and learned it had almost no oil left I must have waited too long between changes. Also got the air and fuel filters cleaned, and the car does run much better now. Your Sis had to work. I got the groceries (and loaded up on crackuccino).

But before that I hit the gym. It was crowded with older folks, people who take to the machines in khaki pants and jeans because they intend to sweat as little as possible. Me, I'm going to get drenched. I found an open treadmill and started up my routine But before I could get running, an older man hopped on the machine next to me, and, I swear, started eyeballing me. Like a showdown. Like I was moving in on his territory. If I had to guess, he saw himself as the geezer stud who enjoyed making the other folks look feeble. Here I was -- younger, thinner, dashingly handsome, armed with an iPod (packed with the devil's music) -- working his beat and wooing his wimmens.

Now I had no interest in impressing his gals; I'm already hitched to an older woman. But as soon as I started running, he began to gallop too. With virtually no warm-up time. He meant to show me up. I didn't care. I had a fresh new playlist of songs to cycle through. Once I realized I was surrounded by old folks, I didn't have to worry about my music disturbing them. They can't hear. So I blasted my headphones, ensuring I will be as deaf when I hit their age. It's the ciiiiiircle of liiife, it's the wheeeeel of fortuuuune.

After about fifteen minutes, he stopped, cleaned up the machine, grabbed his gear, and left. I still had another fifteen minutes to go. I felt fine. This was my first run of any kind since the rehearsals started, and I was doing OK. I wasn't going at my top speed though; I was just testing whether my body remembered how to do this. I finished with no problems and devoid of 470 calories. Which I completely replaced with that crackuccino.

After all that, I sketched out panels for the comic over the three alloted pages, played some Guitar Hero and wrestling, and joined Your Sis for another basketball playoff game at the school. That team is tired. They played three games last week and held practice on Saturday in addition to their schoolwork (we hope). They gotta get some time off. We grabbed dinner at Juan's and tidied it off with Coronas.

I can already feel my body respond to the exercise. I'm a little tender, but also standing a little straighter.

Moving Picture of the Day
The third trailer for The Simpsons film is the goods.


In the News
Britney looks good bald. Honest. My theory: She dyed her hair into oblivion and had to start from scratch.

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The JetBlue fiasco baffles me. I clearly remember Northwest leaving people on the tarmac for eight hours within the last 10 years, and that airline didn't have this flustered response. Both times, weather played a big part in the airlines stranding passengers. But I don't see why a "bill of rights" would be necessary when common sense says you remove people from a plane after two hours of sitting on the runway. We got stuck in such a spot in Cleveland. Some folks around us made a stink (figuratively) and whined about the situation. But Your Sis and I brought books and we read out the wait. After a while, we exited the plane and got a new flight the next morning. It wasn't that big a deal. There was no need to threaten to sue or yell at the flight attendants.

Days of Wine and Moses

The school varsity basketball coach has a vineyard in his backyard (which I guess should be pronounced backyerd) and recently opened up a wine and beer store in Hendersonville. Nice guy. Great wife. A fun couple. Your Sis and I picked up Sean, the school art teacher, and went to this week's beer tasting at the shop. We've ordered from them before, and last night we walked away with a mixed six-pack and some wine. Sean is a little behind us in getting into wine, and the coach helped us out with suggestions. One was a Spanish wine made to go with sushi. We of course bought that and bragged on you about the It's A Wonderful Sushi night. The three of us then buzzed over to Outback for a leisurely dinner topped off by a hearty conversation on religion. We talked about our experience with her church over the marriage, and why that nudged us out the door, and we all shared idea on how it's other people, not God, that hinder organized religion.

Of course, much school stuff was talked about too. Sean is considering having me talk to some students who want to pursue cartooning and comics. Another teacher told Your Sister that she used to collect my covers when I worked for the Greenville paper, and that could lead to another conversation with students. I told Your Sister to direct her to my website for examples of art.

Moving Picture of the Day
Jerry Seinfeld's CGI bee comedy looks decent, unlike the ones with penguins or rats or cows. Then again, the trailer could be funnier than the film. Watch closely to see Eddie Izzard.

Valentine's Hoops

The high school is hosting the regional basketball tournament this week, and we could get in free by taking goodies for the officials. And we did. As soon as I got home, we trudged over through sub-arctic temperatures to deliver food and watch the game. Or so I thought. Turns out our team didn't take the floor for another 90 minutes. We then walk back home through the sub-arctic temperatures, and I meekly suggest that next time we find a game schedule. It was dinner time, and we ate not a cookie as we carried them to the school, and Your Sis picks out where we could eat. Now keep in mind, it's Valentine's Day. This is when folks go out to eat, and almost any place we go is going to be crammed. And so it was as we arrived at the steakhouse. A 30-minute wait, we hear, and right back out the door we go. We go to the Chinese place to eat and eventually discuss high-school memories of Valentine's Day. And back to the school we go to watch the boys varsity team.

A few weeks ago, the newspaper staff, whom I have passively adopted as a sometime consultant, sold t-shirts they designed. It's a person's two fists side by side with "2006" and "2007" on the knuckles. The principal decided this was a gang sign and banned the shirts. Because we all know how many gang members work for school newspapers. I got my dander up about it and asked Your Sis to get me a shirt to wear downtown. Which I do. I also decided to wear it to the game. And before we get out hopes up, no, nothing happened. But there was a moment where the principal was eying me from afar, and I hoped he would say something. Still, the night was not wasted as we watched our team play just about as good as a team can. It was a clear win as they near the conference finals.

At home after, we watched "Lost" head in a definite sci-fi direction for what proved to be one of the more satisfying episodes yet. There was much eating of M&Ms as well.

Picture of the Day
Plume activity on Io, a moon of Jupiter.



In the News
Remember Tony Snow adamantly saying the administration proved the Iraqi government was supplying the Iraq insurgents. Not 24 hours later, Bush said "I don't think we know" if Iran's leaders were behind the effort. He also said "The idea that somehow we're manufacturing the idea that the Iranians are providing IEDs (improvised explosive devices) is preposterous." Which sounds very nice until we remember the ginned up evidence against Iraq.

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John Edwards's campaign has opened a storefront in Second Life, the massive online virtual reality. It's as aggressive a strategy to court voters as any other exploitation of novelties, but it seems a move inspired by Gore's famous techno-savvy. It's as if someone in the campaign asked "what would Gore do?"It's a clever move, designed to increase his profile when he's eclipsed by Hillary and Obama, but such a move could also make him look marginalized to the majority demographic. Second Life is hardly mainstream. It's not even as popular as online games like World of Warcraft.

Inherit the Wind

We're attending a basketball conference at her high school, and attendance is free for us if we bring eats for the visiting personnel. We made brownies and cookies and managed only to eat a few of each. Then we sat down for wine, soup, and bread. We finished up the last half of Inherit the Wind, and now I must read the original play. I bought it at a library sale last year, and I'm curious more than ever how the two versions differ. The film walks on much the same water as Contact, the 1997 Jodie Foster film based on the Carl Sagan book. That movie is one I always forget to mention as a favorite of mine despite its unceasing ability to get me all emotional like.

Inherit the Wind works as a great film on every level. The characters get plenty of time to develop in and out of the courtroom, the direction is clever but subtle, and the film, arriving as it did mid-century, presents both the broad theatre style of Fredric March and the nuanced manner of Spencer Tracy. This variety of style serves to further distinguish the two opponents in the Scopes Monkey Trial: March is of the country and Tracy of the city. The former advocates faith and religion above all while the latter espouses the sovereignty and sanctity of the mind. And both overstep their ground to make their cases. It's a thoroughly balanced and intelligent film that allows both viewpoints their time to shine.

It's also a pop-culture trove. Both leads played Dr. Jekyll, the accused is one of the "Bewitched" Darrens, the bad guy later played Sheriff Lobo, the judge is Sherman T. Potter, and even Mr. Roper pops up near the end.

Picture of the Day
Mars as seen from an orbiter.


In the News
The Libby trial is nearing the end, and defense attorneys are trying to present Libby testimony without putting him on the stand. The prosecution is understandably protesting. What is most surprising about the trial is that the reporters appearing on the stand all cite different people as their source for the Valerie Plame leak. Libby is on trial for perjury and obstruction; leaking the name of a classified CIA official would be a felony. But no one is under charges of that despite all this testimony that many folks did so -- the first press secretary (who copped a deal with the prosecutor after pleading the fifth), the deputy secretary of the Pentagon, and Libby himself.

Cheney is not appearing in front of this jury although he did testify to the prosecutor during the investigation. Cheney can claim he declassified the name under power of a presidential signing statement. But doing so would be an admission that he purposefully targeted her in order to send a signal to her husband, an official who discredited the Nigerian-Iraq connection Cheney needed to purse the invasion. If this name could only be known by folks with access to classified info, someone had to have disseminated her name to the various administration staffs and told them to get her name out there. If the name wasn't classified, there's no value in identifying her. The only reason then for outing her is to scare other CIA agents into going along with the Iraq-9/11 rationale for war despite evidence to the contrary.

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A government press briefing over the weekend tried to prove Iran's government is supplying the insurgency with weapons. But two things raise eyebrows. First, the ammo shown in photos displays Western numerals and letters. Second, the chairman of the joint chiefs, who was out of the country during the briefing, only learned of it and the alleged evidence when asked by reporters. When press secretary Tony Snow was asked about it, he was caught flatfooted. The following is from yesterday's White House press briefing.

Q Tony, on Iran, General Peter Pace is now saying that he was not aware that this briefing was going ahead in Baghdad, where military officers were talking about Iran's influence in Iraq this past weekend. How could the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs not know that military officers would be briefing in Baghdad?

MR. SNOW: I'll refer that back to General Pace, frankly. But I'll tell you, what General Pace --

Q But did the White House loop him in? Did the White House loop in the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?

MR. SNOW: I believe that this was a Pentagon briefing. Again, it typically is something that when the Pentagon is doing it, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs knows about it.

Let me tell you what -- I think a lot of people are trying to whomp up a fight here that doesn't exist. I spoke with General Pace a bit this morning, as well. And there is a core of information that everybody agrees upon. Number one, there is weaponry that is of Iranian manufacture that's in Iraq killing Americans. There are Iranians involved, there are Iranians on the ground. Our intelligence indicates that the explosively formed penetrators, the EFP, in fact, are directly associated with Quds forces, which are part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, which are part of the government. The Quds force is, in fact, an official arm of the Iranian government and, as such, the government bears responsibility and accountability for its actions, as you would expect of any sovereign government.

And I think that's pretty clear. I mean, General Pace, again, if you go through his --

Q No, you didn't say that, though -- that's where you said "people are trying to whomp up a fight." With all due respect, it's General Pace's comments, not anyone else's, where he said --

MR. SNOW: No, go back --

Q Well, he said -- let me just say, he said, "It is clear that Iranians are involved and it's clear that materials from Iran are involved. But I would not say but what I know that the Iranian government clearly knows or is complicit." Are you saying that you, from this podium, know more than the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff?

MR. SNOW: I am telling you that -- I'm telling you what the intelligence indicates.

Q So is he not in the loop? I'm just trying to understand why there's a contradiction, where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs --

MR. SNOW: I'll tell you what -- I just know that there's -- Ed, calm down. I know you're excited, your voice is rising, your pace is increasing --

Q I don't need to calm down. I'm telling you that he is saying this; I'm not.

MR. SNOW: Well, I'm telling you I talked with him. Okay?

Q Okay.

MR. SNOW: And I've talked with him --

Q Well, we'll follow up with him, as well.

MR. SNOW: You better, because I think you will find out that the intelligence does indicate, as he said, this stuff was -- let me pose you with two possibilities. But first, the intelligence indicates that the Quds forces, which are part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, are associated with this.

Now, let me ask a second question to you. I don't know what's more frightening, the fact that the Quds forces would be operating with the knowledge of senior officials or without the knowledge of senior officials. What is beyond dispute, and what is of primary importance here -- and General Pace hasn't disagreed with it, and we don't disagree, and frankly, again, I think you'll find upon further conversation -- he's going to be in the air for about 23 hours, so give him a day -- that, in fact, we generally agree on the basics of the situation here, which is there are armaments that have made their way from Iran into Iraq. There are Iranian forces in Iraq. These weapons are being used to kill Americans; we're going to do everything we can to protect our people.

Q Right. But on the substance of it, the briefers over the weekend said that these parts are sent to Iraq with the approval of senior Iranian officials. And the bottom line is he seems to be contradicting that.

MR. SNOW: Well, I think what General Pace may have been saying -- in fact, I know what he's saying -- and this is where we get to the rhetorical question I was asking you before -- do we have a signed piece of paper from Mr. Khomeini or from President Ahmadinejad signing off on this? No. But are the Quds forces part of the government? The answer is yes.

So the question is, I think this ends up being a semantic dispute about senior levels of the government or the government. And the fact is, the government knows about it.

Q Okay. But isn't it really a question about whether or not you have strong evidence? When the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff seem to be saying something different than the White House, does that raise questions about how solid this evidence is?

MR. SNOW: No, because you've got -- you have explosively formed penetrators. He says they exist, correct?

Q I didn't see that in this particular quote, but --

MR. SNOW: Well, no -- he said that there are weapons --

Q He says that there are projectiles manufactured in Iraq.

MR. SNOW: Okay, all right. So, okay, so there's no doubt about that, correct? There are Iranians in Iraq. There's no question about that, correct?

Q Sure.

MR. SNOW: All right, so where's the credibility problem, in terms of -- are you saying --

Q In terms of the Iranian government being behind it. That's not -- nobody's disputing whether it's manufactured in Iran. That's what -- you keep changing what my question is.

MR. SNOW: No, no, I'm trying to clarify your question, because I think this is a --

Q I don't need it clarified, I'm trying to tell you -- I know what my question is, and basically, he's saying that he doesn't see evidence that the Iranian government is clearly behind it. That's my -- I've asked that three or four times. You haven't answered that. You're saying the Iranian government is behind it.

MR. SNOW: Okay, let me put it this way -- I'll say it one more time. The Quds force is part of the Iranian government. The Quds force is behind it, is associated with it.

Q Okay --

MR. SNOW: All right? Thank you.

Q Let me follow up on this, because we have a situation where right now, a lot of the American people are hearing a lot about Iran and whether the government is involved in sending the weapons across or not. And now it would appear that the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the administration seem to be on two different pages.

MR. SNOW: We're not. And that's why I'm going to let General Pace speak for himself. We're not on a different page.

Q But you talked to him --

MR. SNOW: I know, and that's why I'm saying, because Ed's question -- Ed is citing a quote that he said earlier. I'm going to let him -- he'll be able to put it all together, because Ed's not going to believe me when I tell him what my conversation was.

Q But he's in the air for 23 hours. And these are the --

Q Let's hear it. (Laughter.)

MR. SNOW: I already laid it out for you, man.

Q But it seems to be a reasonable expectation the American people can have, to get some kind of explanation for how you can have the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the administration on two separate pages.

MR. SNOW: We're not on separate pages. The explanation --

Q Certainly, we seem to be, from what was said.

MR. SNOW: I know, because everybody is trying to get into semantic --

Q But yesterday you said the administration is confident the report on Iran is accurate and the weaponry is coming with knowledge of the Iranian government.

MR. SNOW: Of the government. And I still --

Q But now you're saying that the Quds forces, which is part of the Iranian government -- you're sort of parsing.

MR. SNOW: Well, I was parsing yesterday. I'm trying to be careful about how we do this. The question is, do we know that some particular senior official signed off? No, it's an opaque government; it's not a transparent government. But on the other hand, this is part of the Revolutionary Guard, which is part of the government, and therefore you do hold the government responsible.

Q So somebody who reads General Pace's quote, and says, hmm, that's different than what Tony Snow said yesterday -- they're wrong?

MR. SNOW: Yes. Yes. And I think what's -- again, we'll let General -- here's the --

Q So did Pace retract what he said when he spoke to you?

MR. SNOW: No, he didn't retract because what he said was accurate, as well. What he was thinking is, are you trying to lay this at the feet of members of the Supreme Governing Council; are you trying to lay this at the feet of particular individuals? The answer is, no, we don't have the intelligence that makes it that specific. He was trying to be very precise in how he answered the question. And I was being careful in how I answered it yesterday, as well. We know the Quds forces are involved. They're part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. That's part of the government. Just not going to go any further than that.

Q A deputy assistant undersecretary of agriculture is part of the government. Would you say that that -- if somebody was involved at that level, that that's a top level --

MR. SNOW: If you had somebody who was operating with an elite military unit, operating inside the United States, committing acts of violence, would you say that the sponsor government had some -- bore some responsibility for that elite military unit? We're not talking about deputy assistant secretaries of agriculture -- cute question, but it doesn't get to the point that people have moved armaments into Iraq and are killing Americans.

Q Yesterday you said, "In that regime there are not freelancers."

MR. SNOW: Right.

Q Do you stick by that statement, and thereby drawing it to the larger --

MR. SNOW: Again, let me just -- here's your rhetorical question: What's more frightening, the notion that they are freelancing or that they're not?

Q So they might.

MR. SNOW: No, I'm just posing a question for your consideration.

Q But then how solid is the information, though? I think the bottom line question still is if the Chairman --

MR. SNOW: Ed, the information is --

Q He's expressing doubts. He's a General. He knows this better than any of us in this room.

MR. SNOW: There are two things you need to understand. Number one, you guys have been constantly -- I did see what may be the dumbest lead of an editorial I've seen in a long time today in The New York Times, which is, "We need to declare ourselves on Iran." We've declared it over and over -- we're not going to war with them. Let me make that clear. So anybody who is trying to use this as "the administration trying to lay the predicate for a war with Iran" -- no, we're committed to diplomacy with Iran. But we are also committed to protecting our forces.

Let's go back through what we understand. We understand that these weapons came from Iran, no dispute about that. We know that Quds forces have been within Iraq, no dispute about that. We know that the Quds forces are, in fact, part of the Revolutionary Guard; they're an instrument of the Iranian government. Nobody doubts that. So the question therefore becomes, who wrote the orders -- I'm not going to -- we're not going to be able to tell you who signed the orders. But we do know that the Iranian government at that level has been involved.

The important thing is we're trying to do this, and what's interesting is that the Iranian officials -- if they deny it, that's fine. Let's make sure that they, therefore, become engaged in trying to make sure that none of that stuff comes across the border is being used to kill Americans or innocent Iraqis.

Q It's not Iranian officials denying it -- that's not -- again, it's about General Pace --

MR. SNOW: Well, actually, Jessica -- no, Jessica has pinged me many times in the last two days saying they have been denying it on her network.

Q Okay, but, again, when we're talking about -- can you clarify, though, did General Pace -- you said he had a phone conversation with him.

MR. SNOW: Yes.

Q Was he aware that this briefing was going to happen? That his own --

MR. SNOW: I actually -- I did not ask him whether he knew -- I did not ask the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs whether he knew that a Pentagon briefing was going to take place in Baghdad. Forgive me. I didn't ask the process question.

Q Well, he's the one who told reporters that he didn't know about it.

MR. SNOW: Okay. But what I said -- I think -- I asked him about the specific -- he said he wanted to be very precise, because he did not want to be making allegations that could be construed as saying that some senior official within the Iranian government was directly responsible for signing an order. I think that's right. I think he's right about that.

Q Is any of this the reason why the briefing over the weekend became on background, not on camera, because you're concerned about how -- whether --

MR. SNOW: No, what happened was the -- no, the reason it was on background -- the reason it was background -- I'm getting my exercise -- the reason it was on background was that one of the briefers otherwise would not have been able to do it. You guys understand how background briefings work. And that was the ground rule that was laid out. Now, I'm sure that you don't want to rule out background briefings now or anytime in the future. The fact is, we went public with the evidence, and you got the pictures -- again, nobody denies the armaments, nobody denies where they come from, nobody denies the importance of protecting our guys.

David.

Q If I could just come at this one other way. Beyond the evidence of the involvement of the Quds forces, there's no other evidence of ties to the Iranian government?

MR. SNOW: I don't want to lay out -- for one thing, I don't have access to the full chain of intel. But I can tell you the intel community believes that the Quds forces was involved, and I don't want to get into any further characterizations. There I would direct you to the DNI.

Q But as far as you know, when you suggested -- the Iranian government --

MR. SNOW: As far as I'm going to say here, I'm not willing to go any further. I think that's appropriately answered by DNI.

Q Do you think that the off-the-record, low-level Iran briefing has backfired? The reason I ask that is because on the one hand you avoid the comparison with Colin Powell's presentation to the United Nations, but at the same time, what you've ended up with is the sense that no one senior in the administration seems to be willing to go on the record. And I understand that one of the people -- not all of the people, but one of the people would have been unable to brief; the other people wouldn't have been unable to brief.

MR. SNOW: No, look, again, I think what's happening is that everybody is trying to create a narrative here of something that's -- look, the problem before, nobody found weapons of mass destruction. You cannot say that nobody didn't -- nobody found explosively formed penetrators. You've got pictures of the things. You know where they came from. There is no doubt about the central fact here: that you have an explosive device that's being used to kill Americans.

So what everybody is trying to figure out now is what General Pace meant -- it's now being devolved into a process argument that overlooks the key fact, which is that weaponry made its way from Iran into Iraq and it's killing Americans, and we're going to try to stop the killing of Americans.

Q Well, isn't the key fact really not only that, but the key fact is, who is sending the weapons into Iraq?

MR. SNOW: Well, again, there is evidence that links Quds force to it. Now, again, the question --

Q Direct evidence?

MR. SNOW: I'm not going to characterize -- let me put it this way, I will push all the evidentiary questions to DNI, but the finding of the intelligence community is that it's, in fact, linked to the Quds forces.

Q That's kind of a "no."

MR. SNOW: No, it's not. It's one of those -- because what you're asking is for the nature and quality of classified evidence. I get my hands tied when I get -- I don't want to get too far in front of this, trying to give you any kind of characterization beyond what's already on the public record.

One Ring to Baffle Them All

I go shopping for Your Sister's requested ring yesterday after work. I check some websites of large jewelery franchises to see about prices, but I know what she asked for -- a square or triangle cut red stone on a yellow gold band --wouldn't cost that much. I hit the Asheville Mall and find nothing. All of the main stores are loaded with diamonds or gaudy rings with too much glitter. Imagine a nine-year-old armed with a bedazzler unleashed in a Zales or Helzberg. That's what I see in every jewelry store. Valentine's Day is when they move the blinding crap, apparently. I try the department stores with no luck again.

They have some nice stuff, just not what she asked for. Your Sis wants a ring, not earrings or a necklace or a bracelet. And if the stone I find was the right color, it was cut into a heart or an oval. Does this mean she's [Boston accent] pahticulah[/Boston accent]? Not to an unreasonable degree. The stores are clearly selling to the procrastinating male hoping cumbersome items would make them feel like they successfully pulled a winner out of their ass.

I consider the fashion jewelry, that plastic blocky stuff they don't put behind the counter. Rings and necklaces for $10. I almost buy her $100 worth of it so she could pimp out on the weekends. I even look at the kiosks selling guido jewelry, but I pass on the piled-high necklaces and wristwatches the size of a basketball.

After an hour, I leave and try the Biltmore Mall. This is a spooky place. It's depressingly empty of consumers or stores, and the flickering fluorescent lights suggest a horror movie is about to break out. The Belk's wing is virtually abandoned, and only once you approach the food court do you see signs of life. I find something close to what she had asked for at their Zales, and I take phone pictures to send to her. This is part of our deal. While waiting for her response, I go to the store across the corridor (forgot the name) and find rings that are also close to what she described. But they are larger in size, approaching diva size. I don't think she'd like that, and before I could debate further with myself, she calls to say she liked the first ring. Well, OK then. I'll go buy it, I say.

And back to Zales I go. I tell the man I'd like that ring resized to her dimension and hand him her wedding ring, given to me for just this need. He says the ring I picked is much larger (a 7, where hers is a 5 3/4), and that it would need to be sent off to be resized. They can do it in a week, he says. No thanks, I say. We need the ring Wednesday.

I go back to the other store and ask about one of their diva rings. Both are handed to me, and different discounts are mentioned. I pick one I think she'd like most, note the fair price for it, and ask for it in the size of the wedding ring. I show it to the saleswoman for another measure, and she asks how I manged to get her wedding ring. Oh, I assure her, my wife instructed me to get this right. She notes the size and says the ring I picked would have to be sent off to be resized. Stores only carry rings in one size, seven. I didn't know this. A week, she says. So it's the same as with Zales, and Your Sis would have no ring for Valentine's Day. I wanted her to have something to show the other teachers Wednesday. I know half the fun of getting gifts is the comparisons over lunch. She had to have something.

I call her and ask what she wants to do. Maybe we can buy the ring, have her wear it for a few days, and then send it off for resizing. Let's wait, she says. Let's put of this ring off for another day, maybe a birthday. I know she's backing off the request. She's telling herself the inconvenience is a sign she shouldn't have asked for it. She's falling back to monasticism. OK, I assure her, but you have to get something. A big bag of M&Ms, she says. The Valentine's kind. Are you sure? She's sure. OK, we'll skip the ring, and I'll get the candy when I can find it and be home after that. Love you, bye bye. And I walk right back to Zales and order the ring.

It's a good price for a good stone and setting. I'm happy with the find, satisfied that I finally found it after all the searching, and proud that I'm doing a good thing. She'll be surprised, and the ring will only be a week late. And as I sign the receipt the salesman says, oh by the way, the ring will take two weeks. The guy who picks up rings for resizing only comes on Mondays, and he already left.

You goddamn monkeyfucking bastard. I say in my mind, of course. Out loud, I say, OK, I understand, sure. But next week's a federal holiday. No problem, The Monkeyfucker says. The courier doesn't skip on federal holidays. I'll have the ring on the 26th, he says. The 26th, I repeat. Yes, he says. I thank him, internally curse his genitals with flying pliers, and leave with ring paid for and ordered at her size.

I find the candy at Ingle's, arrive home to find a mug of beer waiting for me for all the trouble, and I tell her abut the ring, including the fact that I ordered it anyway. She's shocked, in a happy way. I tell her about Monkeyfucker, and we agree that this makes three times jewelry stores have fucked us over. All different, but each changing the purchase details once the order has been made. When I bought her engagement ring, the downtown Asheville store demanded all the payment before I could take the ring home, despite what the saleswoman told me. When she bought my wedding ring, the downtown Mayberry store jacked up the price as she arrived to pick it up. And now this.

I assure her I'm divorcing my frustration with them from her request for the ring. I don't want this to discourage her asking for specific things. Next time, I ask, tell me earlier what you want. And why doesn't a jewelry store employ someone who can resize or transplant stones on site? How many sales are lost because of this? My grouchy-sense suspects they pretend to send away the ring so a cheap replacement can later be handed to me. The store sells plastic crap for the price of the stones and never loses the expensive inventory. But I'm a cynical man, and the beer goes to my head quickly. And I'm hungry for the M&Ms.

We eat the weekly buffalo wings (made this time with honey, and they're good, ja), watch "Six Feet Under" and Colbert, and call it a night.

Picture of the Day
This person makes art out of Rubik's Cubes. I assume he has to rotate the block sides, although he could just remove and replace the stickers.

Feast Weekend

It began with a pub dinner as all weekends should. On Saturday, we went in for haircuts followed by breakfast downtown at the bakery. We then drove to Asheville's new used bookstore, possibly Your Sister's new favorite haunt. She piled up on books and I found a horror DVD. I discovered they keep the graphic novels in the Hobbies section with gaming manuals, and this only makes sense if you rename Hobbies as the Things Teen Boys Like section. But that omits the geek girls and adults, and then you realize the store owners can't be bothered to file the material correctly, and it should then be the Stuff We're Too Old To Relate To section.

We headed back to the airport plaza, and Your Sis, upon being asked about Valentine's gifts, admitted she wanted bling. Yes, bling. She described the ring she wanted but couldn't find it at the stores we tried. I'm hitting the mall after work to find it. I'm glad she managed to find something to ask for; normally she perpetuates a monastic refusal of luxury. This I can find and buy before Wednesday. At Best Buy, she got me the first Guitar Hero game, and now I have both to torture her with. She's thinking of a laptop to replace her PC. The school handed out stripped-down laptops to some teachers, but they have no reader drives. No 3.5 discs, no CDs, no DVDs. Nothing. It's a hermit computer. If you don't have a network cable or a jumpdrive, you're screwed.

We got home and had lunch at the new spot in town, The Square Root. It's swank and affordable, with a wood theme. The floor is made up of 6,000 cross-cut wood blocks. The bar is a felled tree. And the food is good. But if you get the bison burger, hold the fried jalapeños. Trust me. Afterward, I wrapped up the mash-up CD for Travis. The get-together was great, and I met again some folks from the Halloween race. They inspired me to get going on the exercise again, and I did a small routine the next day. They also shared a buffalo wing recipe I'm gonna try tonight.

On Sunday, we had a big lunch, shopped for groceries, and she took her second long nap of the weekend. I worked on the comic story and finished up the laundry. We caught the first bit of the Grammys, just enough to see the reunited Police, and watched half of Inherit the Wind, which is quickly becoming my favorite movie.

Picture of the Day
The party attendees were all eager for 300, news that warms the heart of this lifelong comic geek.

In the News
The Dixie Chicks owned the Grammys with five wins, including song, record, and album of the year. Maybe most galling for their detractors is their win for country album of the year, the third album in six years to win despite little to no country-radio support (Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn are the others). They won in every category they were nominated. And in other news sure to make Bill O'Reilly unhappy, Ludacris won for best rap album and rap song. The Police sounded sharp last night, and I hope they tour in this area later in the year.